


you make beautiful things out of us

by beneathground



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Baby Fic, Domestic Avengers, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Married Master Assassins, Post-Avengers (2012), Sexual Content, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-13
Updated: 2013-06-13
Packaged: 2017-12-14 21:23:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/841548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beneathground/pseuds/beneathground
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had only been ten days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you make beautiful things out of us

**Author's Note:**

> Don't worry, it's mostly just porn. The baby sleeps the whole time.
> 
> Title from Beautiful Things by Gungor.

The smell of powder and lingering traces of Natasha’s perfume greeted him first. A single light clicked on as the elevator doors slide silently shut behind him, bathing the living room in soft illumination. Clint traced familiar steps to the over-stuffed L-shaped couch, dropping his duffel and the case containing his bow on the gray cushion, careful not to crush Natasha’s artfully arranged pile of pillows. 

“Thanks, JARVIS,” he nodded. 

“Agent Romanoff alerted me that you would be arriving late tonight. Welcome home, Agent Barton,” JARVIS said.

“Is everyone asleep?”

“Eleanor went down promptly at 7 and Agent Romanoff retired just after midnight,” the AI said. 

Clint pulled off his leather jacket and draped it over the arm of the couch. “I’ll keep it down then. Thanks.” 

“You are welcome, sir.” The floor was silent, and JARVIS remained so after that. Clint always imagined how he would move like if he was human. He pictured lots of clasped hands, slightly disapproving looks and exits on silent feet. He had also recently decided that he would have a mustache.

He surveyed the room. Everything neat and clean and in its place; colorful fuzzy blanket folded with care resting on the edge of the pack ‘n play, books stacked artfully on the coffee table next to two empty wine glasses. Lipstick stained the rim of each. He recognized the color of Natasha’s favorite lip gloss on one; he was fairly certain the peach color was Pepper’s. 

He picked them up and carried them through the large open floor plan of the dining room into the equally airy, spacious kitchen. There was enough ambient light coming in through the floor to ceiling windows overlooking Manhattan to make turning on any other lights unnecessary. 

Clint placed the stemware in the sink and plugged in his SHIELD-issued phone next to Nat’s on the countertop next to the toaster. It was off, and would stay that way. JARVIS was directly linked to the charging port and was programmed to alert them if an emergency arose. Otherwise, they were only reachable by email, and Clint triple checked the phone, making sure it was totally off. He was officially off the grid (well- as off as one got living in one of the tallest buildings in Manhattan with a bunch of super heroes).

Natasha had left a half-finished bottle of his favorite bourbon and a single glass on the counter for him. He wasn’t much of a drinker but indulged once in a while; tonight, he reached behind them and pulled forward the box of cupcakes she had also left out. Chocolate peanut butter, his favorite, was demolished in three bites.

He grabbed a clean water glass from the cabinet on his right, filling it at the filter on the fridge door. He gulped downed one glass, then another. Flight always made him dehydrated. His eyes tracked the various photographs stuck on the stainless steel with colorful magnets as he filled the glass a third time, taking the time to drink instead of chug now.

He had started collecting the magnets when they had become partners all those years ago; a way to catalog where they’d been, tacky souvenirs like they were different people living a different life, vacationing instead of killing. Natasha had always made fun of him for it- until she started buying them herself. Now they stood vigil over photos of him and Natasha and a tiny Elly; snapshots of the team; a rather complicated babysitting schedule (his); half-finished sudoku puzzles (Nat’s) and take out menus (also Nat’s). It was such a normal thing to have, photos on a fridge; sometimes it felt like he was glimpsing someone else’s life even though it was his face staring back at him. 

Clint took a deep breath, surveying the twinkling lights of the city beneath him. All the tension he’d been carrying in his shoulders started to dissipate as he stood in the dark kitchen, watching, breathing. It had only been ten days. Only ten days, but they’d been up in the Canadian wilderness doing survival training with a bunch of newly-minted field agents, where there was no cell phone service to be had, which meant that he and Natasha had been unable to video chat, which meant he had seen neither her nor Elly in ten days. He’d missed them. 

He was home now. They were in the other room. 

Well, they had managed once, when they’d stopped in Toronto on their way out into the woods, but he had just left them that morning. Why Fury had wanted to use the resource that was Hawkeye to teach a bunch of newbies how to light a fire and figure out which way was north was beyond him, to which Fury reminded Clint that he’d knocked up his best spy and was punishing him accordingly. Clint hadn’t bothered to remind him that he was pretty much on desk duty now anyway, and part time at that, though that was more his wish than Fury’s punishment. At least he’d been able to work in some fun knife throwing activities. And there had been the incident with the wolves-

Clint shook his head and gulped the rest of the water. His eyes caught and held on a picture of Tony holding a newborn Elly. Her forehead then was scrunched in the same way it had been just days ago when she’d seen his face on the computer screen and had reached out for him, confused when she touched cool glass and not the rugged features she knew.

They had known when they had made the decision to keep the baby that there would be times when they would be away. They would miss days, events, moments. It was the nature of who they were and what they did. But knowing it and living it were different. Clint was usually the one holding the baby, talking to Nat off in some far corner of the world, saving someone or killing them, whatever her mission ended up being. She had taken her mandatory three month maternity leave and then gone back to work. His own leave had lasted longer, quickly morphing into the duties of a senior agent, more mentor than anything else. He would still take the occasional job when SHIELD needed him, and he was always ready to join the Avengers. But he was getting older, and had been tired long before that white stick with two blue lines changed their lives.  
He finished off his water and put the empty glass in the sink. He was home now.

Clint made his way towards the bedrooms, stopping in the living room only to switch off the light and grab his bow. His boots were toed off and left next to the couch. Natasha kept a very clean, orderly house, and she would surely give him hell for it in the morning. Boots belonged on the mat next to the elevator so as not to track unwanted dirt into the living space. He was tired though, and the boots stayed where they’d fallen. 

Silently, he made his way down the hall, passing the door to their bedroom and opening the door to Elly’s room instead. A single night light in the corner cast just enough glow for him to get to the crib even if he didn’t know the way by heart.

The baby was on her back asleep, one arm thrown back by her head, the other reaching out across the thin mattress for the purple cat Clint had bought for her. She had Natasha’s lips and Clint’s blonde hair, and he was not at all biased in saying she was the most beautiful baby he had ever seen. He lifted two fingers to his lips, kissing them and touching her soft cheek. Her skin was warm and perfect. He stood for a time, watched her sleep, wondering at the dreams of a seven month old.

“Good night baby love,” he murmured finally, reluctantly withdrawing his hand and tucking the blanket around her. He watched her for another minute, the way her chest rose and fell with each breath, this tiny creature who had changed his whole life so completely.

Because they were nothing if not paranoid, even moreso now with a baby in the house, he tripled checked the windows and made sure the room was secure before exiting. He even checked the closet; monsters were real, he’d battled his share. Luckily, none of them were foolish enough to be hiding in his daughter’s room tonight. 

Finally satisfied, Clint padded down the hall to the master bedroom and eased the door open. He had briefly texted with Natasha and given her a rough ETA, but he still made sure to keep his movements slow in case she startled awake and mistook him for an intruder. His shoulder still bore the mark from the time she had gotten him with one of her knives when he’d accidentally woken her up. They had a rule that all weapons be placed on bedside tables now instead of residing in bed with them at night. Still, he went slow.

Natasha was curled up on his side of the bed. She was a vision; he drank her in. She had a pillow cuddled to her chest and her bare leg hitched up over the comforter, blankets and sheets kicked to the end of the bed. The t-shirt she wore - his, judging by its size dwarfing her body - rode up to expose a wide strip of creamy thigh and buttocks. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

The alarm clock glowed. It was well after three. With care, Clint set the case with his bow in her sight line if she were to awaken suddenly; their signal, so she would know he was home. He grabbed the baby monitor from the nightstand, switched it to video mode briefly to make sure Elly was still conked out (she was, not that he was surprised; his kid could, and had, slept through violent acts of both nature and the supernatural, especially the comings and goings of Thor, who generated a bigger light show than the most damaging thunderstorm when he traveled), and made for the bathroom. He was still wired from the past week, the flight home, and the debrief. A shower would take care of that awful smell that he knew was him and also calm him down enough to get some shut eye.

He took the slightly longer route through their giant walk-in closet, of which Natasha claimed a solid 85% (her shoe collection alone took up an entire wall that was designed to showcase each pair, complete with backlighting; his paltry collection was relegated to a dark corner). Lingerie he hadn’t seen before was spread out on the arm chair in the corner. Clint grinned as he shucked his uniform and threw it into the hamper; he couldn’t wait for her to model them.

The bathroom light clicked on a moment before he entered the room. The bathroom had in fact been one of the deciding factors for them to continue living at Stark Tower after Natasha had discovered she was pregnant. Tony promising to not design a miniature suit for the baby had been the other. 

She had been hesitant to stay. A team of superheroes living in one place drew a lot of unwanted attention from a lot of dangerous people, and though she had already completely redesigned the security for the entirety of Stark Tower four times now (Tony alternately threatened and begged her to officially take the job as head of his security team), they had both been worried that throwing the helpless baby of two master assassins into the mix was just asking for trouble.

It was the bathroom, though, that had tipped the scales in Clint’s favor. It was three times the size of the quarters he’d occupied on the helicarrier once upon a time. The shower was big enough to fit four grown adults comfortably, with six giant matching showerheads that cascaded water down like one was caught underneath a waterfall and a bench in case the act of showering became too strenuous (or they just didn’t feel like standing for shower sex). 

There was also a jacuzzi tub tucked in the corner with more floor to ceiling windows that offered an unobstructed view of lower Manhattan, and a separate vanity for Natasha. Everything was stone and gleaming metallic surfaces. The floor was heated, and the shower was turned on using the tablet Tony had installed between the double sinks. Clint’s shower settings, including temperature and pressure, were a simple tap on the screen.

You don’t just move out of that kind of luxury.

He crossed to the sink and immediately fished his wedding ring out of the glass dish it rested in when he was unable to wear it. It slid easily over his knuckle. The weight on his finger was a comfort. Natasha must have taken it to get cleaned while he was gone; its platinum surface gleamed under the bright lights.

Which had to go. He fiddled with the controls until the lights were at only a quarter of their power, and the shower switched on and was billowing steam almost immediately. In seconds Clint was stepping into heat and water and lavender because Natasha liked the way it smelled. He stood directly under the spray, tapping a control on the wall so that all six showerheads converged in the middle, and let the water beat on his shoulders. It ran in rivulets down his cheeks and his chest and his legs and he suddenly felt exhausted. This would not be a lingering shower.

Clint felt the whisper of air temperature change a millisecond before bed-warm arms slid around his middle and perfect breasts pressed up against his back. To his credit, he didn’t jump, but that was more due to tiredness than being completely aware of his surroundings. If anything, his body melted further, and he thought maybe he’d melt completely and be sucked down the drain without her there to anchor him. 

His arms came up to cover hers, clasping her hands in his and lacing their fingers together. Her lips burned against his shoulder where she pressed a nipping kiss.

“Your daughter doesn’t appreciate you being gone so long,” Natasha said. Her breath was warm against his skin, her voice low with interrupted sleep. His world narrowed to the points where they touched: arm on arm and her toes against his heel and hardening nipples against shoulder blades.

“And how did my wife feel about it?”

Natasha hummed and didn’t immediately answer. “She had some words with Fury.”

“Must’ve been quite a show,” he chuckled.

“I told him next time he sends you away he is going to have to lend me one of his best agents as a nanny. “

“Ask for Hill. Elly likes her.”

Smiling, Clint lifted her left hand to his face, kissing the finger where her rings rested. Rings. The diamond was large against her deceptively-delicate finger. She usually didn’t wear her engagement ring. She always said it didn’t count because their very short engagement had only lasted two days; in fact, he had purchased the diamond after the wedding, because he wanted her to have it even if she felt it unnecessary. 

He twirled it back and forth for a second before guiding Natasha around to stand before him. Her hair was pinned up in an elaborate knot at the top of her head, which meant she had no intention of getting it wet. He smiled at her tells, the things he knew that no one else did. Natasha hated going to bed with wet hair. He adjusted the shower spray accordingly.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Clint said, letting go of her hand so he could draw her against him completely. The feel of her body against his was soothing even as it aroused him; any tension the hot water hadn’t taken care of was dissipated with her touch. She was beautiful, sleep-warm and rumpled and naked. Naked Natasha was making his tired brain go haywire.

“I don’t mind,” Natasha returned. Clint leaned down and pressed a kiss against her hairline. “I’m not a heavy sleeper.” She looked up at him. Her face was makeup free, fresh and lovely. He couldn’t help his smile.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” she smiled back, her face tilting up, demanding a kiss. Clint’s chest rumbled with a chuckle. He ran his hands down the length of her back, pressing her to him, finding the firm flesh of her buttocks to fill his palms with. The welcome home kiss she gave him was downright filthy. All lips and teeth and tongue, impolite and unapologetic. She tasted like toothpaste and a touch of red wine. 

It dragged on, Natasha raising up on tip toes to close the small height distance between them. He sighed into her mouth, squeezing the supple flesh filling his hands. His wife- her ass was second to none. Lost in her taste and touch, he easily let her pull his hands away and detached his mouth from hers when he felt her press a shower poof into his hand.

“You stink,” she said matter-of-factly when he glanced down.

“I was planning to get clean until someone distracted me,” he replied, leaning down to steal another kiss from her before taking her not-at-all subtle hint and grabbing for the soap. “I know better than to crawl into bed smelling like this.”

“Your mood lighting gives you away. You were hoping I’d distract you.”

“It’s not mood lighting,” he protested. 

Natasha glanced at the touch pad on the wall. “’Clint and Nat’s sexytime lights’? You’re a horrible spy.”

“That’s why I retired.”

He poured a liberal amount of liquid soap on the sponge. Natasha snatched it from him and worked up a strong lather. “Let me,” she said, running the sponge in a long line down his chest. “I want to make sure you don’t miss anything.” 

“You want to make sure I didn’t damage myself too badly playing troop leader,” he corrected, watching her categorize every single one of his abs in startling detail. Her pupils dilated as they rippled beneath her hand.

“Everyone come back in one piece?”

“Those kids are just this side of useless,” he moaned, half in annoyance and half from her attentions. He had a few minor bruises and scraps, no more than he would’ve gotten sparring on base. Less than sparring with her. “I would have had more luck with actual Boy Scouts.”

“I’ll make a man out of you yet,” she mused, leaning in to give him a quick kiss.

His muscles rippled under her touch and her eyes darkened. She scratched her nails through his chest hair, smoothing over his pecs and toying too briefly with his nipples. Their eyes met; she pressed a kiss over his heart. Her fingertips danced down his abdomen, smoothing out the thin line of hair down to his groin and dipping into the cut of his hip. She lingered there; it was a place she had memorized long ago. With her tongue.

His dick, already half hard just from her proximity, stirred attentively. She used her free hand to jerk him a few times. “I’ll deal with you in a minute.” He groaned and rocked forward slightly on the balls of his feet, reaching for the curve of one full breast. She let him cop a feel (he made them bounce a little, he couldn’t help himself; the sight made him salivate), before turning back to her task.

Natasha cleaned him thoroughly and efficiently; she was certainly used to giving baths, even though it was usually to a squirming Elly. Clint was very rapidly turning into putty in her hands, her ministrations careful and with purpose. He let himself enjoy her touch for a long minute before reaching for his shampoo, eager to get the cleaning part of the shower over with so they could move on to more fun activities.

She eyed his actions with approval. “Just trying to speed up the process,” he said with a wolfish grin, his hair white with lather. Natasha guided him completely under the spray and knelt at his feet.

“Oh, well if we’re on a timetable-,” she said with a smirk as she grabbed hold of his dick with a gentle but firm touch and leaned in, curling her tongue around the head. “I don’t want to keep you from anything pressing.”

“Oh, fuck, you know that’s not what I meant,” Clint moaned, tipping his head back to rinse out the shampoo, making sure to lean back far enough so that it didn’t get anywhere near what Natasha was doing with her mouth. That way she flicked her tongue was certainly dirty but not the kind of dirty that warranted her mouth getting rinsed out with soap. It was behavior he wanted her to repeat over and over again. He had enough presence of mind to toggle a control on the wall for the shower, aiming the showerhead at Natasha’s back so as not to drench her.

He ran his hands through his hair a few times, making sure all the soap was out. He chanced a glance down and made eye contact with Natasha, who smiled around his cock and then took him all the way down her throat. The breathy sigh she let out as her gag reflex relaxed went right to his balls and he groaned. 

Oh who was he kidding- she didn’t even have a gag reflex. She took him all the way in, her lips pressed firm against his groin. She swallowed around him and his eyes widened; pleasure shot hot and sharp down his spine. His toes may have curled up. Natasha braced her hands on his thighs, using them for leverage, her head starting to bob up and down faster.

Clint maintained eye contact as she blew him, challenging though that was when she was making him feel this good. There was seriously nothing hotter than his beautiful wife and any chance he got to watch her work, whether in the field or with the team or before him on her knees (especially before him on her knees) was one he snapped up with greed. He cupped her cheek in one hand, feeling the way her mouth hollowed with him inside it, stroking his thumb over her soft skin. She mimicked him, hand rising to play with his balls as she flicked her tongue against the head of his cock. His eyes nearly slid shut at the sensation overload. He didn’t want her to stop but he also didn’t think he had another round in him after this- he couldn’t blow his load yet.

“Babe,” he managed, tracing the line of her cheekbone with his thumb to get her attention even has his hips strained to push his dick down her throat again, “c’mere.”

She sucked him for another minute. The noises coming out of his mouth were a little embarrassing but they couldn’t be helped. Her hand on his balls must have alerted her to how close he was because she finally let him go with an audible pop, her hand stroking him instead, spreading saliva across his dick. His hips jerked at her touch and the urge to come all over those perfect, gorgeous tits was overwhelming, but he knew he would be done for the night then and he wasn’t about to leave Natasha unsatisfied. He valued his balls too much, thank you.

“Good thing these rooms are sound-proof,” she said with a smirk. 

“Good thing Elly sleeps through the night now,” he replied.

Clint helped her to her feet and pressed her up against the stone wall of the shower in one fluid motion, capturing her mouth in a smoldering kiss. She tasted clean and slightly salty, her lips more swollen than usual. His hands found their way to her full breasts, bigger now than before she’d been pregnant, her warm flesh spilling over his fingers as he cupped them. Her tits were perfect; he was well acquainted with that fact but every time he got his hands on them the thought popped into his head. Large and round and heavy, nipples already hard under his hands. He palmed them as he kissed and nibbled on her neck, then pinched each nipple until she cried out and jerked his head down while arching towards him.

“Suck on them,” Natasha ordered, her husky voice even lower than normal, her hand still stroking his dick. 

He did her one better by boosting her up against the wall, letting her wrap herself around him as he braced her, and traced fingers down wet flesh to a different wetness. He teased her clit as he pulled one nipple into his mouth and bit down. Natasha threw her head back against the wall and moaned. She climbed him enough that he was free to use his other hand on her breast, his body leaning at an angle to support them both, her legs locked around his hip, splaying her open. Unfortunately, it meant her grip on his cock was broken, but he figured he could use the breather while he caught her up.

Clint opened his mouth and sucked as much of her breast in as he could, pulling greedily on her flesh. He pulled all sorts of dirty tricks out of the book, trying to make up for almost two weeks’ lost time. He slicked three fingers up into her without warning and she let out long keening whine, her hand grabbing the back of his head and holding him firmly in place. Pumping his fingers in and out of her pussy while his thumb traced her clit, Clint found an easy rhythm with his tongue as Natasha raked her nails down his back and shivered. He worked her into a frenzy quickly; clearly she had missed him, she was extra sensitive to his touch. She cried out in pleasure over and over, her breath stalling as she humped his fingers 

“Clint I-I’m gonna,” she panted, nearly choked on the words, “I’m gonna come,” and then she did, all over his hand, tightening up on him over and over and making his dick ache to be inside her. Her chest heaved in his face and Clint buried his head between her breasts, letting her ride his fingers until her climax subsided.

He didn’t give her time to rest, though; her second orgasm was always faster and harder-hitting than her first. Clint kept one finger firm on her clit as he backed away from the wall and took her with him. Natasha followed him as soon as her feet hit the ground, her mouth seeking his in a kiss that was more tongue than lips.

“I missed you,” he whispered, earning a whimper that he ate up. His fingers continued their assault on her clit; her legs were trembling. Her body bent itself around and against him as he twisted her over and eased her down, positioning her hands for leverage against the wall. He gave a firm pat to the back of her thigh and she effortlessly lifted her leg, foot coming to rest on the bench so she was spread wide for him. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard, Tash,” he growled, nestling his erection between her ass cheeks, thrusting against her. “I want you to come all over my cock just like you came all over my hand.”

“Yeah?” she asked breathlessly, taking one hand off the wall and grabbing him between her legs. “Stop sweet-talking me and get on with it.” 

Clint chuckled and gave her a “Yes, ma’am” as his hands cradled her hips. He spread her cheeks to get an eyeful of her pussy, all pink and glistening. Her hand tugged him, guiding him into place. His cock was thick and heavy in her grip, and she squeezed him once and then let go. Clint’s hand took over for her; he gripped himself firmly and slid the head up and down her slit. He slid inside just barely before retracting again, his hips building a small rhythm. The shower water had washed away a lot of her wetness. He jerked himself in and out, groaning as she worked her inner muscles to pull him in deeper. He gave her ass a quick swat.

“Gimme a second here,” he said, working himself in a bit deeper.

“Stop teasing and fuck me already,” Natasha ordered.

“Sweetheart, I would love nothing more,” Clint said, gritting his teeth. He was big and this angle made her impossibly tight. He felt her give a little, but it wasn’t enough. With a sigh he pulled out completely. She cursed at him in Russian, turning her head so she could pierce him with her stare. He was already on his knees, pulling her hips back into his face. His tongue gave her a long lick and she moaned.

He worked her back up quickly, while also using his saliva to help replace what lubricant the water had washed away. She was quivering around him as he alternated between sucking her clit into his mouth and flattening his tongue against her opening, licking her up and down. He slapped her ass firmly for good measure; she yelped in surprise.

“You’re gonna pay for that,” she said, pushing her ass back against his face. His hands were steady on her hips, angling her the way he wanted. Satisfied that she was wet enough now, he stood. His finger was back on her clit as he nudged his dick back inside of her. He met little resistance this time. He stroked as he thrust shallowly, barely halfway in, and just as she started keening and clenching around him he grabbed her hips with both hands and thrust home, immediately setting up a punishing rhythm that lifted her almost off the ground completely. 

Natasha’s second orgasm took her by storm. She thrashed back against him, moaning like a goddamn porn star, her pussy a vice around his dick. Her contractions were so intense that he couldn’t really pull out because they just sucked him back in. He went with it easily, bottoming out and barely pulling back, his balls slapping against her sensitive flesh. Her fingers scrambled for purchase against the marble; her head dropped and her ass lifted in the air and she whined for more.

“Fuck me harder,” she moaned, “touch me everywhere.” She squeezed those inner muscles again and his eyes rolled back in absolute pleasure. He was teetering on the edge, heat radiating from the base of his spine, threatening to ignite. He pushed against it, not quite ready for this to end.

“Christ,” he muttered, running one hand up the curve of her spine to grasp her shoulder. His other hand stayed on her hip, and he took her with everything he had, pulling her back even as he pushed forward to impale her on his dick. Sparks of pleasure flashed down his legs and behind his eyes; he was muttering and he had no idea what he was saying but it was filthy as hell judging by the way Natasha bucked against him and talked dirty right back. 

His hand spanned the entirety of her lower back now. Her ass was a perfect heart before him; he could come from that fantastic view alone. His dick disappeared inside her with each thrust like a magic trick. “Jesus Nat, if you could see what I see-” he choked off, hooked his thumb down the center of her ass to tease her, which set her bucking back against him wildly.

“I know you love the view,” she half-laugh half-gasped. 

His thumb was barely inside the tight ring of her ass and he was pounding away at that velvety pussy of hers and her finger was teasing her clit and it was so good, it was always so good but this time was exceptional and he gripped her tight enough to bruise and bottomed out and stayed there, splitting her in half and she gasped for air and moaned and exclaimed, “God!- yeah, fuck me, fuck me Clint, don’t stop, don’t-” and then she came again and three was all he could give her tonight and he finally took his, pumping his hips helplessly and artlessly into her as he went off inside her, her insides squeezing him so tight and his orgasm going on so long that his vision whited out at the edges and he cursed and jerked and rode her ass. He gave her a few final sharp, shuddering thrusts, sending flashes of pleasure through over-sensitive nerve endings, and she moaned and pushed herself back up so that he could wrap an arm around her middle to support her. Her head turned and their eyes met a second before their lips did and they maintained eye contact as their lips met, messy and desperate. 

They broke apart when Clint got water in his eye and sputtered away from her. Their bodies separated as his dick slipped out, and he watched, fascinated, as his cum dripped down her leg. She turned to him then, her face red and eyes wild, water streaming down through her hair. Clint reached out, pushing a damp curl back from her face.

“Sorry I got your hair wet,” he said, not sounding sorry at all.

“No you’re not,” she laughed. “Occupational hazard of shower sex. I thought about a shower cap but they aren’t very sexy.”

He leaned in and kissed her, his hand moving gently between her legs. She whined a little as his finger dipped inside her, and he brought it back up to her lips covered in their combined fluids. Her smile was wicked as she touched her tongue to his finger, licking his cum and her taste away. He finished the bit that she missed, her taste tainted with his salt, and then he kissed her again as he let the shower wash her clean.

Their foreheads met and they stood under the spray for another minute. Pleasure still buzzed bright through them. Finally, reluctantly, Natasha pulled away. 

“The baby’s going to be up soon,” she said, arching her back in a stretch that brought her breasts tantalizingly close to his face. He realized with a start that he had started to droop forward, all his energy now completely spent, his body happy and satisfied. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”

“I’m not sure I can move my legs just yet,” Clint said, running a hand over his eyes, feeling completely blissed out.

Natasha turned off the water and stepped away from him. Clint was not ready to not be touching her in some way and immediately followed on her heels, pulling her against him as she grabbed two towels. She flung his over his head and gave his arm a squeeze.

“I already washed you. You’re on your own for the drying part,” Natasha said, tucking the corner of the towel between her breasts.

“You’re pretty,” he offered as he quickly dried off and slung the towel back over its rack. “That towel doesn’t do you justice. You should probably take it off immediately.”  
 Natasha laughed. “To bed, Hawkeye.”

He pulled her in for a warm kiss. “I like the sound of that.”

“Sleeping time for all good Avengers,” she said, breaking away and leaving him to follow her into their dark bedroom. He grabbed the baby monitor, noting the time (now after four) and the state of the baby (showing no signs of waking). Natasha was at her dresser, pulling on fresh sleepwear. Clint grabbed a pair of sweatpants and stepped into them, placing the baby monitor on his nightstand again.

“Maybe she’ll sleep until 7,” Clint said as he helped Natasha fluff the comforter. The way her breasts looked when she bent over, threatening to spill right out of the thin-strapped tank top she’d put on, made his mouth water. He’d just had her and already he wanted her again.

“Early to bed, early to rise, I’m afraid,” Nat said as she crawled into bed and turned on her side toward him. Clint eased in next to her and immediately grabbed his pillow and slid down so that he was eye level with her cleavage. Unsatisfied with her choice to cover them, he drew the straps down and pulled on the neck of her top to expose he breasts, then shoved his face right into them. He felt Natasha chuckle as she carded her fingers through his hair. He teased her nipple into hardness with his tongue, kissing and licking. His hand slid down her back to rest on her ass and she lifted her leg to drape over his side. 

Clint let out a happy sigh. “Better?” Natasha asked, craning her neck to watch him mouth her breast. It wasn’t about arousing so much as it was prolonging pleasure. The feel of her on his tongue was intoxicating. 

“It’s good to be home,” Clint said. Her hand found the magic spot at the top of his spine that sent shivers through his body and he took a deep breath, inhaling her warm clean scent. She touched her finger under his chin, pulling his mouth to hers. Their kiss was sweet and lazy. When it ended, Clint rearranged his head on his pillow so he could bury his face smack in the middle of her breasts again.

“Home is where my breasts are? You and your daughter are exactly alike,” Natasha murmured. Clint wasn’t about to argue.

“She gets that from me.”

They were silent for a time, and Clint had nearly dropped off into sleep. “Fury wants me to come in tomorrow.”

He didn’t really mean for the noise he let out to be quite so pathetic, but he was tired and it slipped out before he could censor it. “Tomorrow is family time.”

“Clint.”

He reared back enough to look at her. The glow from their alarm clocks illuminated her face. “Call in sick.”

“Hawkeye.”

“Come on, Nat. I just got back. Where does he want you to go this time?”

He felt her sigh. “I don’t know. You know we’ll discuss it before I say yes.”

“I know,” he said, failing to keep the pout out of his voice. 

“This is who we are.”

“We’re also parents who should be able to take their kid to the park on a Sunday,” Clint replied, nose back in her cleavage. 

“And we will. After my meeting.” Her tone was gentle but firm. 

“Yeah, okay. Fine.” He knew she got it. He got it himself. That didn’t mean he always had to like her being sent off for days or weeks at a time, especially when he himself had just been gone. But that was the nature of the job. There weren’t just debts and ledgers to worry about now. There was a tiny person that they wanted to make the world a better, safer place for.

“Do I get an agent nanny helper?”

She chuckled. “I’ll see what I can do. I don’t really think you need one though.”

“Yeah, I’ve pretty much got all this dad stuff figured out. Piece of cake.” He smiled. The terror of being a father and wanting so badly to be the best he could was never far from his mind and they both knew it.

He resumed his nuzzling of her breasts. She stroked the back of his neck. He let himself drift through a haze of sleep and warmth and Natasha and felt anxious and excited to hold his kid again and see all the ways she’d changed in the time he’d been gone. The archer and the spy and the life they were making together. That was who they were.


End file.
